


sugarplums

by thepsychicclam



Series: domestic series [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: 69 (Sex Position), Christmas, Consensual Somnophilia, Dad Stiles, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Family, Fluff, Future Fic, Kid Fic, M/M, Marriage, Pack Feels, Rimming, Stiles makes a lot of bad Christmas puns, Ugly Holiday Sweaters, dad derek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-23
Updated: 2013-12-23
Packaged: 2018-01-05 18:38:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1097321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thepsychicclam/pseuds/thepsychicclam
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Stiles drags Derek black Friday shopping, Stiles chops down a Christmas tree, Isaac throws an ugly sweater party, and Derek and Stiles' daughter hates Santa.</p>
            </blockquote>





	sugarplums

**Author's Note:**

> this is a prequel to [ladybugs](http://archiveofourown.org/works/894237), set when Patrick is 6 and Evie is 3, but you don't have to have read it. this works as a stand alone. 
> 
> because i wanted to write some cavity-inducing christmas fluff, and i'm in love with the idea of derek and stiles being parents at christmas. so, have some fluff. merry christmas <3

Derek looks like it physically _pains_ him to enter the store. Stiles rolls his eyes, hooks his arm through Derek’s, and drags him inside. “Come on, Scrooge McWolf.”

“It’s not so bad, son,” the sheriff says, clapping Derek on the shoulder. “We’re old pros by now.”

“I don’t understand,” Derek starts as he glances around at the hoards of people, “why anyone would come to the store on _Thanksgiving night_ just to save twenty bucks on things they don’t need.”

“Watch your mouth,” Stiles says, “I _need_ those sheets, okay?”

“I’ve done so well,” Derek says, “being married to you this long and managing to dodge this ridiculous excursion that the two of you go on every year.”

Stiles hugs Derek’s arm closer to him. “So it’s high time that you join me Black Friday shopping.”

“It’s a Stilinski family tradition,” the sheriff says as they make their way through the crowd. “Claudia used to force me out every Friday morning at 3 a.m. to stand in line – “

“You know, back in the olden days when dinosaurs roamed the earth and Black Friday sales started on Fridays.” 

The sheriff slaps Stiles on the back of the head. “His mother loved the crowds, the rush, and the excitement. After she died, we carried on the tradition. That first Black Friday after she died, we stood in line outside Walmart in the freezing cold waiting for them to open at 4 a.m., and Stiles started crying.”

“I was nine,” Stiles says defensively. He remembers that morning so vividly; he doesn’t know why he and his dad never just stopped the shopping after she died. He guesses it always made them feel close to her. It’s been over twenty years, and he still feels like she’s there whenever they go. 

Derek leans over and kisses Stiles’ temple.

“So, since you two are the experts, what are we here to get?” Derek asks. 

Stiles grins and slaps his chest. “That’s the spirit! Just embrace the crazy.”

“Oh, I embraced the crazy the day I married you,” Derek says, and Stiles hits him again.

“Boys, behave,” the sheriff says with fond exasperation. “Melissa wants this fancy kitchen gadget for Christmas; Allison wrote the name of it down on a piece of paper for me.”

“They have some of their board games on sale,” Stiles says, “I thought we could get the kids a few. And that dinosaur playset Patrick wants is also on sale.”

“Evie’s doll, too,” Derek adds, “And I saw a vacuum cleaner I wouldn’t mind looking at.”

“A vacuum cleaner,” Stiles asks, “Really? When the hell did you get so…boring? That’s so _adult_ of you.”

The sheriff heads towards housewares as Derek and Stiles go to the toy department, which is a crowded mess. Seems everyone decided Target’s toy section was the place to be tonight. Stiles detaches himself from Derek and heads down an aisle, Derek’s finger hooked into his belt loop so they don’t get separated.

“Everything smells so fucking strongly,” Derek whispers into Stiles’ ear as they pause to let a lady with a huge shopping cart by before she takes off their toes.

“Like what?”

“Capitalism and desperation.”

Stiles laughs as he lunges across the aisle and grabs one of the last dinosaur playsets. “Awesome. Mission one, accomplished. Next, Evie’s doll. Which one is it?”

“I don’t remember the name, but it talks and blinks and pees and all this other stuff,” Derek replies. “I’ll know it when I see it.” 

This time, Derek hooks his fingers into Stiles’ back pockets as Stiles leads the way through the mass of bodies. Stiles squirms his way through narrow openings and between carts and shelves, and Derek never lets go of him, no matter how many protests they hear from other shoppers. It makes Stiles laugh.

“That’s it!” Derek shouts so loudly it startles Stiles, because the last thing he expected was for Derek Hale to be screaming over toys. He guesses after being married for eight years, nothing should really startle him anymore. But sometimes Stiles still finds it difficult to merge grumpy Alpha werewolf with the guy whose only concern right now is to get his daughter the perfect baby doll.

Derek lets Stiles go, and Stiles is pretty sure he uses some of his werewolf reflexes to maneuver through the mothers crowding around the dolls.

“No, I had it first,” Stiles hears a woman say as he finally squeezes his way through to Derek. 

“Clearly, you are mistaken,” Derek replies – no, Derek _growls_. Stiles’ brain starts flashing all the warning signs, because if there was one thing you did not do, it was antagonize an Alpha werewolf where his cubs were concerned. 

“Please, sir, let go of the doll,” the woman snaps.

“No, you let go of the doll because I had her first.” Stiles catches the twitch in Derek’s jaw, and the clench of his fist that’s not on the box, and Stiles is pretty sure he can see the beginnings of claws. 

“It’s the last one,” the woman says.

“And _my_ daughter is going to have her.” Derek glares at her, and Stiles watches in horror as his eyes flash red for the briefest of moments. But it’s just enough to disarm the woman, and she lets her guard down long enough for Derek to snatch the baby doll from the woman’s grip.

“Hey!” the woman yells, and Stiles is dragging Derek away through the crowd, ignoring the angry exclamations as they knock people out of the way. “That was my doll, you jerk!”

“I can’t believe you just did that!” Stiles mumbles as people side eye them. Stiles doesn’t slow until they are a safe distance away from toys. “You just totally stole that doll from that woman!”

“I had it first,” Derek says, exhaling heavily through his nostrils. “That bitch tried to yank it from my hands after I grabbed it from the shelf!” Derek flexes his fist, and Stiles catches sight of his claws receding. “The news said this doll is going to be nearly impossible to find this Christmas, and I was going to make damn sure my baby got the doll she wanted.”

Stiles grins widely and throws his arms around Derek’s neck right there in the middle of the store. “Is it weird if I tell you I find you extremely sexy right now?”

Derek chuckles and pecks Stiles on the lips. “Come on, let’s get your sheets and my vacuum cleaner before we make another scene in the middle of Target.”

*

“Dad, you should have seen him!” Stiles waves his hands around excitedly as Derek puts their packages in the trunk of the car. “He was like a Black Friday pro. Mom would have been so proud.” 

When they’re in the car, Derek behind the wheel, the sheriff reaches from the back and squeezes Derek’s shoulder. “You’re a true Stilinski now, Derek.”

Stiles doesn’t miss just how pleased Derek looks at that.

They spent over an hour waiting in line, so it’s almost midnight. Melissa is keeping the kids, and Stiles knows exactly what he wants. “Dad, know what I’m thinking?”

“IHOP.”

“IHOP!!” 

When the hostess seats them at their table, Stiles doesn’t even bother to grab the menu. Instead, he makes straw snakes and drops water on them as his dad decides.

“You’re worse than the kids,” Derek whispers as he drapes his arm across Stiles’ shoulders. “You’re making a mess.”

“Shut up,” Stiles says, stealing Derek’s straw.

“The usual?” Derek asks Stiles as the waitress comes to take their order. When Stiles nods, Derek orders the same thing they always get. One cheese omelet, hash browns, an order of chocolate chip pancakes, two plates.

When Stiles tires of playing with the straw wrappers, he lays his head down on Derek’s shoulder. Immediately, he yawns.

“Looks like shopping tuckered someone out tonight,” the sheriff laughs.

“I’ve been up since six,” Stiles replies. “Evie woke up and was wired all morning. She came running into our bedroom this morning, gobbling at the top of her lungs. You should have seen Derek,” Stiles starts laughing and patting Derek’s chest affectionately. “He shot up all GRR and red eyes, and Evie was crawling on the bed pretending to be a turkey. Then not long after that, she ran into Patrick’s room and woke him up, and they ran around the yard for over an hour, refusing to do anything but gobble.” 

“I still contend I had nothing to do with those kids,” Derek jokes. “They take completely after Stiles.”

“You mean to tell me you didn’t ever run around pretending to be a turkey, or something else?” the sheriff asks. “I mean, I’ve heard the theory that you were born as an adult with a permanent scowl, but I always thought that Isaac and Scott were over exaggerating.” The sheriff smiles into his coffee.

“Funny,” Derek says, “I see where Stiles gets it from.”

“Shut up,” Stiles says as he pinches Derek’s side, “you love me.”

“I never pretended to be a turkey,” Derek says, “but I did want to be a cowboy. There was this picture my parents had of me wearing my dad’s cowboy boots, an oversized cowboy hat, a red bandana, and a diaper. I was probably no more than two.”

“Sounds adorable,” Stiles says. 

After the waitress brings the food, Derek splits the omelet while Stiles drenches the pancakes in syrup. “Stiles!” Derek says, pushing his hand away. “Stop ruining my pancakes.”

“I’m making them better,” Stiles says as he sets the syrup container aside. Stiles licks syrup from where it dribbled on his hand as Derek slides his half of the omelet in front of him. He glances up and catches the sheriff staring at him with an odd look on his face. “What? Do I have syrup on my face?”

The sheriff shakes his head with a sad smile. “No. It’s just…watching you two make me miss your mom, kiddo.”

Stiles knows there’s nothing he can say to take away the emptiness, so he just reaches out and pats his dad’s hand. “I know what you mean. I miss her, too.”

*

Stiles is teetering somewhere on the edge between sleep and consciousness, and he’s having the _best_ dream. Dreams that involve fingers and stubble scraping across his skin. He moans aloud, and from miles away hears a satisfied hum in his ear.

“Morning,” Derek mumbles, and Stiles comes to slowly. The first thing he notices is that he’s achingly hard, and that his hips are rolling of their own accord. The next thing he notices is the delicious slide of something in and out of his ass, and he blinks awake enough to realize that Derek’s fucking into him lazily.

“Morning,” Stiles yawns as he reaches an arm behind him. He digs his fingers into the meat of Derek’s ass, moaning again as Derek quickens his pace. “You know,” Stiles says, eyes finally adjusting and catching sight of the time, “You could have let me sleep a little longer.”

“I thought you might enjoy being woken up with a cock up your ass,” Derek breathes into his ear, and Stiles whines at the feel of his hot breath ghosting across his skin mixed with the sound of his sexy voice. “No kids to come barging in and catch us.” Derek thrusts in deep, and Stiles gasps.

“Yes, I don’t think I’d like Evie to run in pretending to be a turkey right this second.”

Derek grips Stiles’ hip roughly as he starts thrusting faster. “Don’t think about the kids. Just think about us.”

“Can I go back to sleep after we’re done?” Stiles asks as he scratches his fingers along Derek’s forearm.

“Whatever you want. Melissa has them until lunchtime.” Stiles cranes his head so he can kiss Derek, and Derek starts fucking him in shallow little motions, barely pulling out before he pushes back inside. He’s hitting Stiles at just the right angle, and when Stiles lifts his leg to hook it back over Derek’s thigh, it causes Derek to go even deeper.

“Derek,” he moans as Derek’s mouth attaches to his shoulder. He’s kissing and licking along Stiles’ skin, no doubt leaving little marks on his flesh. Stiles’ eyes drift shut as he buzzes somewhere on the edge of sleep and pleasure, his body boneless and barely able to move. But Derek just does all the work, content to let Stiles lay there as he kisses and pushes inside him.

When Derek’s hand finally comes around Stiles’ body and wraps around his cock, Stiles lets out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. 

“Feel good?” Derek asks quietly in his ear. Stiles nods and murmurs an affirmative response in between the noises he’s making. “You feel so good around me,” Derek says, and Stiles clenches around him as his orgasm builds. “You like it when I talk in your ear, don’t you?” Derek asks.

“You know I love the sound of your voice,” Stiles says. “I love everything about you.”

Derek hums contently as he squeezes Stiles’ cock harder. Stiles pushes the blankets away just before he comes over Derek’s fist, small splashes of come landing on the sheets. Derek continues stroking him as he thrusts a few more times, finally coming deep inside Stiles.

Stiles feels his body sink into the bed as Derek reaches behind him onto the nightstand to grab a few tissues. He wipes the come from his hand, Stiles’ cock, and the bed before gently pulling out and then wiping the come from between Stiles’ cheeks.

As Derek settles back onto the bed, Stiles shifts closer to him. “My side of the bed is wet,” Stiles mumbles sleepily against Derek’s chest. “Since this is all your fault, you have to share your side of the bed.”

Derek chuckles and kisses Stiles’ hair as Stiles drifts back to sleep.

*

“Evie, stop kicking the back of my seat,” Derek says as he pulls into the elementary school parking lot. He glances in the rearview mirror, and when Evie sees his reflection, she smiles widely and does her version of a wave, which even at three years old, is more like a flexing of her fingers. Derek makes a funny face for her, and she squeals loudly.

“Daddy, I see you!” Evie says, laughing loudly. “DD, I see Daddy!”

“Do you now?” Stiles says, turning around and rubbing her leg. “I don’t see Daddy. Where is he?”

“Right there, DD!” Evie says, kicking the back of Derek’s seat again.

“Thanks, Stiles,” Derek says sarcastically, and Stiles reaches out and stills Evie’s feet. 

“Stop hitting Daddy’s seat, okay pumpkin? You don’t want him to get grumpy do you?” Stiles makes an exaggerated grumpy face, which has Evie cackling loudly.

“I do not look like that,” Derek says.

“You do,” Stiles says as he turns back around. Evie kicks the back of Derek’s seat again and he sighs.

Stiles gets her to stop as Derek pulls the car around to the curb in the pick up line. Patrick’s waiting on the sidewalk with his backpack on his shoulders. He’s talking to his only friend, another little boy from his kindergarten class named Tommy. Patrick doesn’t notice the car is there, and Derek watches him for a moment as he talks with his friend. They are looking at a comic book, and Patrick says something that makes Tommy laugh.

Derek gets out of the car, and it’s enough. Patrick’s head cocks slightly as he inhales, and then he turns his head and sees the car. Patrick lets the boy keep the comic book – even though Derek is pretty sure that’s Patrick’s comic – and then hurries over. Derek lifts the trunk, and Patrick tosses his back pack inside before he opens the back door and climbs in behind Stiles.

“DD! What are you doing here?” Patrick throws his arms around the headrest of Stiles’ seat in an awkward hug, and Stiles kisses his arm. 

“Took the afternoon off. Your dad and I have a special surprise for you and Evie.”

“Really?” Patrick asks, buckling his seatbelt. Derek climbs back in the car and slowly makes his way through the parking lot. “Awesome.”

“How was school?” Stiles asks. Now that Patrick is settled, Stiles twists in his seat to hand Patrick a juice box and packet of raisins.

“It was fine,” Patrick says. “I got an A on my math test, and my teacher said she liked my story about the lion.”

“That’s cause your lion story was great,” Derek says. “I should know.”

“I know, Dad, cause you’re a book editor,” Patrick says boredly. Stiles reaches out and pats Derek’s arm as Patrick hands his raisins to Evie to share. “We made snowflakes out of coffee filters today,” Patrick continues. “I made one for each of you, even you, Evie!”

“Yippee!” She stuffs raisins in her mouth.

“I also made one for Pop-pop and Miss Melissa. Can we put them up on the windows?”

“Of course,” Stiles says. “We’ll do it as soon as we get home.”

The first place Derek drives is to the Christmas tree farm. Derek goes around to get Evie out of the car while Stiles helps Patrick. Derek catches the back of Evie’s shirt as she starts to dart away.

“Where are you running off to, sugarplum?” Derek asks as he grabs her coat, hat, and mittens from the backseat. He crouches down in front of her and holds the coat up for her to stick her arms through.

“What’s a sugarplum?”

“You know, I have no idea,” Derek says. “They just always talk about them in Christmas songs.”

“Can I be a reindeer?” Evie asks. “With a red nose like Rudolph?”

Derek leans close and kisses her nose as he tugs the hat over her curls. “You can be whatever you want.” Evie smiles as she puts her mittens on. “Ready to go pick out a Christmas tree?”

“Yeah!” Derek stands up, but Evie grabs his hand. He looks down at her and she’s got her face upturned, blinking her large eyes that are exact replicas of Stiles’. “Will you carry me on your shoulders, Daddy? Please?”

“My little reindeer want to fly?” Derek bends down and lifts her up, tickling her belly before he settles her on his shoulders. Evie curls her fists into Derek’s hair as he walks around the car to where Patrick and Stiles are waiting.

“Ready?” Stiles asks, coming up to Derek and pecking him on the lips. Evie squeals happily. “I think she liked that,” Stiles says with a smile. “So, let’s do it again.”

Derek smiles as he kisses Stiles again, this time a bit longer. By the time they part, Evie is pulling his hair in excitement, and Patrick has taken off running down through the Christmas tree farm.

“Do you like this one?” Patrick asks five minutes later as they’re meandering through the pines. “Or this one?”

“That one’s too tall, buddy,” Stiles says as Patrick points to an eleven foot tree.

“But I love it!” he whines. 

“We’d have to chop off half the tree just to get it inside the house,” Derek says. “A truncated Christmas tree; that’d look great.”

“Fine,” Patrick pouts as he kicks a rock. A few minutes later, he finds another tree he likes, this time eight and a half feet tall. “What about this one?” He runs around the tree, tripping over a stump and falling to the ground even with his werewolf reflexes. He quickly jumps back up, not even bothering to brush off his jeans. “I love it!”

“It’s nice,” Stiles says. 

“Whatcha think, Rudolph?” Derek asks as he bounces Evie on his shoulders. “Do you like the tree?”

“I like all the trees!” Evie says. Derek and Stiles laugh as Stiles reaches up and runs a hand along her back.

“You like all the trees?”

“They’re all pretty. Can we take them all home?”

“Unfortunately, Santa only likes to visit houses with one tree,” Stiles says. “I think he’s allergic.” Evie nods, and Derek rolls his eyes.

“Well, Patrick,” Derek says, “If this is the tree you want, then I say let’s cut it down.”

“I can do it!” Patrick goes for the handsaw that Stiles is carrying, but Stiles moves it out of the way.

“Oh no,” Stiles says. “This is not a toy. I’ll do it.”

“Are you sure?” Derek asks. 

Stiles turns to him and glares. “I’m perfectly capable of sawing down a Christmas tree, oh mighty Alpha,” he huffs. Stiles gets down onto his stomach, and Patrick mirrors his actions. They both crawl underneath the branches.

“What are they doing?” Evie asks as Derek pulls his cell phone out of his pocket. 

“Cutting down the tree,” Derek explains as he snaps the picture. Stiles and Patrick are both only visible from the middle of their back down, and Patrick’s legs are long and gangly just like Stiles’.

“They’re going to kill it?!” Evie shrieks.

“No pumpkin,” Derek says, craning his head so he can look up at her. “They’re just making it so we can take it home with us.” Derek kisses her knee. “You know DD wouldn’t kill plants.”

“He’s the plant man!” Evie says. “He loves plantses more than anything else.”

“Even more than me?” Derek asks. “And you and Patrick?”

“Oh no,” Evie replies. “DD don’t love nothing more than you and me and Patrick.”

“Darn straight I don’t,” Stiles yells from beneath the tree. “Ready Patrick? TIMBER!”

The tree falls to the ground with a soft thump. 

“You are such a dork, DD,” Patrick says as he and Stiles push themselves off from the ground. Derek snorts, and Stiles glares at him as Patrick starts brushing the pine needles off the front of Stiles’ clothes. 

“So, six years old, and you’re too cool for your old dad, huh?” Stiles hooks an arm around his neck and kisses his cheek. “Fine, break my heart. You wanna help me carry it anyway?” 

“Yeah!” Patrick runs towards the front of the tree and picks it up. 

“You sure you can carry it,” Derek asks as he moves closer to Stiles. “I can put Evie down and help.”

“Nope, we got it, don’t we, Patrick?”

“Yep! Let’s go!” Patrick starts dragging the tree, and Stiles has to run and grab the trunk so he doesn’t ruin the tree.

*

After they get the Christmas tree, they take the kids to Target. “Okay,” Stiles says as he holds Evie’s hand while they walk through the store. Patrick’s walking beside Derek, bumping into him every time he gets distracted looking at something they pass. “Here’s our surprise, okay?”

“You mean the tree wasn’t the surprise?” Patrick asks, looking up at Stiles and bumping into Derek’s leg. Derek ruffles his hair and loves how easily he’s pleased. He thanks his lucky stars every day he didn’t get saddled with greedy, overly difficult children.

“Nope,” Derek says. “DD has a special surprise for you.”

“Yay!” Evie swings Stiles’ hand back and forth. “What’s my surprise, DD?”

“Well,” Stiles says as they enter the Christmas section, “we’re starting a tradition this year.”

“What’s a tradition?” Evie asks.

“Something we’ll do every year at Christmas,” Stiles explains. He leads them over to the wall of novelty tree ornaments. “Every year, each of you will pick out a Christmas ornament to hang on the tree. You can get whatever you want.”

Evie gasps as she looks up at the wall of ornaments, and Patrick rushes immediately to the display of superhero ones. 

“Take your time and choose wisely,” Derek says. 

“DD!” Patrick says, pointing towards the top of the shelf. “They have three Batman ornaments.”

“Yes, they do.”

“I want one! Help me choose!”

While Patrick excitedly talks about what he wants, Derek notices that Evie’s just staring at the floor. He crouches beside her. “Hey pumpkin,” he says, tapping under her chin gently. “What’s wrong? Don’t you want an ornament?” She nods. “Then what’s wrong?”

“They’re all so beautiful!!” She begins crying, and Stiles glances down at them in confusion. Derek just shrugs at him, and when Evie looks at him, her eyes are gold. Derek picks her up. 

“Ssh, sweetheart. You can have whichever you want.” She sniffles and presses her face into his neck. Derek just holds her there for a few moments while she gets herself under control. “Why are you so upset?” He runs a hand over her dark hair as she cries against his neck. She’s sniffing at his skin, her hands rubbing against his face. Stiles steps over to them, brows furrowed in concern. Without removing her face from Derek’s neck, she reaches out and pats Stiles’ cheek. 

Patrick turns around and studies the ornaments with total concentration. Then, he raises up onto his tiptoes and grabs a few ornaments from their hooks.

“Evie, look,” Patrick says as he steps back over to them. Evie pulls her face away and glances down at her brother. Four ornaments dangle from his fingers. Derek feels a rush of affection, and he has to take a steadying breath. Stiles squeezes his arm. “I picked them out for you. DD and Dad said you can have whatever you want, but I thought you might like these.”

Evie sniffs and rubs at her eyes, which are thankfully back to their normal color. “I like them.”

Patrick starts showing them off one by one. “There’s the Snow White one, and the Perry the Platypus one, and the cat one, and the Cinderella one.”

“Do you like one of those, pumpkin?” Derek asks her quietly. “We can go look at the wall if you want.”

Evie points down to the Snow White ornament Patrick is holding. It’s an oversized plastic ornament with a gigantic round head. Patrick holds it up to hand it to her, and she takes it with a small smile. Derek walks her over to the ornaments. “Take a look and make sure that’s what you want.”

Evie scans the choices, but she’s clutching the Snow White ornament in one hand and sucking the thumb of the other. Derek knows her mind is already made up.

She takes her thumb out of her mouth, leans close to Derek’s ear, and whispers, “I like this one because it’s Snow White and Patrick picked it out for me.” Derek kisses her head and digs a tissue from his pocket to wipe her runny nose.

Stiles starts helping Patrick place the ornaments back on the hooks and catches Derek’s eyes when he glances back. They share a smile, and Stiles put a hand on Patrick’s back. “You did good, kiddo, picking that out for your sister. I’m proud of you.” Stiles kisses his hair as Patrick reaches for a gaudy, brightly colored Batman ornament covered in shiny paint.

“Can I have this one?”

“Absolutely.”

*

Patrick holds the lights while Derek puts them on the tree as Stiles and Evie dance around to the Christmas music playing with green and blue garland draped around their necks. 

“Patrick, draw me in the garland! Draw me in the garland!” Evie yells as she carries an armful of colorful garland over to the side of the living room and dumps it on the floor. Patrick drops the lights he was holding for Derek and runs over to join his sister.

Derek grunts in frustration, but Stiles comes over and picks up the lighted strand from the floor. “He’s six and has my attention span,” Stiles says. “What are you gonna do?”

“You know, I think we did a pretty good job with that kid.” Derek pauses for a moment to watch Patrick and Evie playing in the garland. Currently, Patrick was outlining Evie’s body on the floor with red garland, a silver strand wrapped around his neck like a scarf. 

“Considering he was our first and we didn’t kill him or mentally damage him, I’d have to agree.”

Derek shakes his head. “That’s not what I mean. Today in the store with Evie. He’s just so caring and protective when it comes to her. I know part of it is being the oldest werewolf sibling, but that’s not all of it. He just…”

“Has your heart,” Stiles says. Derek huffs a laugh. “Don’t laugh, it’s true. Sure, you were a brooding asshole when I met you, but you’d been through a lot.” Stiles steps closer and wraps his arms around Derek’s waist and lays his head on his shoulder. “When it comes to your Pack and your family, you are a big marshmallow.”

Derek chuckles as he looks down at Stiles. “You’re pretty okay, yourself.”

“Well, I like to think he got something from me other than my coordination and excessive moles.”

Derek smiles as he leans down to kiss Stiles. They’re still kissing when Evie comes over to them and starts draping icicles on them.

“What do you think you’re doing, missy?” Stiles asks when he pulls away. 

“Decorating you and Daddy,” she says, slipping a few strands through Derek’s belt loops.

“You’re making a mess, that’s what!” Stiles scoops her up and dangles her upside down.

After the lights and garland are on the tree, the kids grab their ornaments from the Target bag. Stiles lifts Evie so she can hang it near the star, and Patrick just has to hang his next to one of Stiles’ Batman Hallmark ornaments. Derek hangs the ornament from their first Christmas next to the one from his and Laura’s tree back in New York, and Stiles hangs their five years together ornament next to the one his mother made back when she was in school.

*

“Josh Lahey and Ryan McCall! You stop that _right now!_ ” Allison yells from the kitchen. Scott’s middle son and Isaac’s youngest are wrestling in the living room of the McCall house. They’re both only seven, but Stiles is pretty sure it turned into something angry if the disappearing claws and healing cuts are anything to go by.

“If they break the Christmas tree, I swear, I will kill them,” Isaac says as he rushes into the living room and grabs both of the boys by the necks of their shirts. “Behave,” he yells as he drags them into the kitchen. “You’re supposed to be making sweets for your class parties, not tearing down the house!”

“Cooking is for _girls_ ,” Josh says as he scrunches his nose at everyone. The whole Pack is at Scott’s tonight, squeezed into the kitchen or in the dining room. Stiles, Isaac, and Allison are in charge of baking cookies, while Derek, Scott, and Isaac’s wife Sarah are in the dining room supervising decorating duties. The kids are spread throughout the house. Patrick’s perched on his knees on a stool right at Stiles’ side helping him make cookies while Evie is in Derek’s lap with icing smeared all over her and Derek’s faces.

“Cooking is not for girls,” Isaac sighs. “Cooking is for whoever wants to do it.”

“I don’t like cooking.”

“Then go ice something!” Isaac exclaims. “Just be productive instead of whining.”

“Baking is the best,” Patrick says as he puts some dough onto a cookie sheet. Stiles ruffles his hair. “You get to eat all the cookie dough you want.”

“You’re such a dork, Patrick,” Josh grunts.

“You’re the dork, dork,” Millie, Isaac’s oldest, says. She’s pressing cookie cutters into the sugar cookie dough Allison rolled out with her oldest Emily and Isaac’s other son Nick. “You’re a dorkasaurus.”

“There were no dorkasauruses,” Patrick says as he licks some dough from his fingers. “But I read this really cool book about a stegosaurus.”

“See? Dork.” Josh leaves the room and Isaac sits on a stool heavily. 

“I’m sorry, Patrick,” Isaac says. “You’re not a dork. And obviously, cooking is not for girls.”

“I know that,” Patrick says as he digs his spoon back into the bowl. “DD cooks all the time, and he’s not a girl. And besides, DD says it’s okay to be a dork or a geek. He says they have more fun.”

“ _DD says, DD says_ ,” Nick mimics. “You _are_ a dork.”

“DD is the smartest man I know,” Patrick says, and Stiles feels himself blush. 

“Kiddo, there are lots of people smarter than me.”

“Nick, leave him alone,” Millie says, her eyes flashing gold. “He’s six. And he’s not so bad to be the runt of the litter.”

There are very few things that bother Stiles, but that statement has his parent hackles rising. He glances at Isaac, and Isaac nods his head briefly before Stiles goes over to drag Millie from the room with an arm around her neck.

No one messes with Stiles’ kids, because he will hurt you. And saying that his kid was the runt of the litter? Those were fighting words. Patrick was really small for his age, and sensitive about it. He got teased enough at school about it from the other boys; Stiles wasn’t putting up with it from his cousins. Sometimes Stiles wishes Patrick had gotten more of Derek in him and less of himself. He remembers what it was like to be the skinniest, smallest boy in the class, or the freakishly tall kid who was nothing but a twig.

“Stiles! What are you doing? Hey! Da-ad!”

Isaac looks around and says, “Did you hear something Nick? Because I didn’t.”

Out of all the kids, Stiles has the closest relationship with Millie. It was partially because she was the oldest of all the cubs, and had attached herself to Stiles as soon as he got together with Derek when she was a toddler. But they had a special bond, which meant Stiles didn’t feel bad at all for dragging her out into the back yard and then setting a death glare on her.

“Stiles, what is it?” she asks, copping that twelve-year old attitude she got so often as of late. “I’m too old to be dragged around.”

“You’ll never be too old for me to drag you around,” Stiles says as he leans against the railing on the back deck. He crosses his arms over his chest and gives her what Derek calls his “Parent Stare.” Derek thinks he picked it up from the sheriff. “You know I love you and you’re my girl, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, we need to have a bit of a talk. About Patrick.”

“I took up for him!” Millie exclaims. “I’m the oldest, and therefore, the Alpha. I have to look after my Pack.”

“Yes, and I appreciate you taking up for Patrick. But do you know why I’m upset?” She shrugs. “You called him the runt of the litter.” 

“So?”

Stiles starts jiggling his leg to try and redirect some of his anger. One thing he’s learned is that yelling at preteens never accomplishes much. Though right now he’d love to just lay into her. “That’s not a very nice thing to say.”

Millie rolls her eyes. “It’s true.”

“That’s not the point!” Stiles yells. “He is small for his age, but he’s kinda sensitive about it. His cousins are so much bigger than him – “

“Duh, Stiles, they’re older.”

“Still. Calling him the runt of the litter is mean. And as his father, I don’t appreciate it and I won’t tolerate it. Especially from my favorite niece.”

Some of Millie’s attitude deflates, and she actually looks apologetic. “Okay, I’m sorry. I was just joking cause he’s so young.”

“I know you didn’t mean it, but just be thoughtful of your cousin’s feelings. Because what’s an Alpha’s number one job?”

“To take care of their Pack.”

“Exactly.”

“But Derek and Scott make fun of you guys all the time,” Millie points out. “Scott calls Dad all kinds of names.”

“Your dad isn’t six years old.”

“Fine, I’ll be a better Alpha,” Millie says. 

“That’s my girl,” Stiles grins, feeling some of his anger subside. “Now, let’s go see if we can get some of the other kids less grumpy and happier, okay?”

As they return to the kitchen, Derek catches Stiles’ eyes and raises his eyebrows in question. Stiles smiles in reply. 

“DD,” Patrick says when Stiles gets back. “We’re making Nutella cookies next!”

“Are we now?” Stiles asks, kissing Patrick’s hair. “What do you need me to do?”

“Allison said I can stir!” he says proudly. “Will you add the egg?”

“Sure thing, buddy.” Patrick awkwardly stirs the mixture, and Stiles gets behind him and holds the spoon with him so he can help stir. The batter is thick, so it takes some time for them to add everything together and stir it until ready.

True to Millie’s word, she takes on the responsibility of getting the cubs to get along. She even gets Josh in there making cookies. Isaac ends up squished between his three kids, Millie on one side and Nick on the other with Josh in front, singing bad Christmas songs at the top of their lungs and making candy cane cookies by twisting dough together. They do most of the work while Isaac supervises, his arms draped around Nick and Millie’s shoulders.

While Allison and Isaac rally everyone to help clean up, Stiles drifts to the dining room table where Evie and the rest of the kids are decorating the cookies.

“You have made a mess!” Stiles laughs as he glances around the table. 

“DD!” Evie exclaims. “I detorated cookies!” She flails her arms around, and icing slings from her caked fingers.

“You detorated cookies?” Stiles asks as he bends down and rubs his nose against hers. “Did you have fun?”

“The bestest time!” Evie said. “Ryan helped me put icing on Santa!”

“He did?” Derek absently puts his arm around Stiles’ waist, and Stiles leans against him. Derek leans his head against Stiles’ side and rubs his back. “It looks like you detorated yourself, too.”

Evie giggles and dips her fingers into the icing. “I’m a cookie! A sugar cookie!”

“A sugarplum,” Derek murmurs into Evie’s hair and smothering her in kisses.

“What did you do to Daddy?”

“I detorated him, too! I made him pretty for you.” Stiles looks down at Derek, who has blue and white frosting in his beard, green frosting on his forehead, and multiple colors on his arms and shirt. Stiles reaches out and pulls a bit of errant red icing from Derek’s hair, and then looks down at his own shirt to see he’s now got icing on himself, too.

“Apparently, I wasn’t pretty enough,” Derek jokes. Stiles laughs and kisses the top of his head.

“You are pretty ugly, not gonna lie.” Derek pinches his ass. Hard.

“Scottie, what you got over there?” 

“I made an entire scene,” Scott says enthusiastically over Kyle’s head, who’s sitting in his lap smearing icing on a tree. “I have a forest of trees, and a house, and a snowman, and carolers. Kyle and Ryan helped.” Scott looks proudly over at his two youngest kids and reaches beside him to pull Ryan into a hug.

“Very nice.”

By the time they are finished with cookies, each child has a tray of thirty cookies to take to their class parties the next day. Patrick and Evie are fast asleep by the time they leave, and Stiles and Derek carry them out to the car after saying goodbye to the Pack.

In the car on the way home, Derek asks, “What happened with Millie? You were _pissed._ ”

Stiles rubs a hand over his face. “She called Patrick the runt of the litter.”

Derek growls quietly in his throat. “I hate that phrase.”

“I do, too.” Stiles reaches over and grabs Derek’s hand. “I mean, she’s twelve and she was just joking, but it just made me so mad. He can’t help it he’s small.”

“How did he handle it?” Derek asks.

“Didn’t even phase him. They were calling him a dork, and he was just happily making cookies.”

Derek squeezes Stiles’ hand. “He was with his daddy. That kid is content as long as he is with you.”

“Hey, he loves being with you, too,” Stiles says.

“I know, but he’s going through a phase where he just wants to do everything you do and be around you all the time.” Derek’s thoughtful for a few moments, and then he says, “I am glad you talked to Millie though. He gets teased enough at school.”

“Believe me, I know.”

“It just makes me mad,” Derek says. “I know they’re kids, but the cubs are the only friends he has other than Tommy.” Derek’s eyes flash red. “I just…”

“I know.” Stiles leans over the console and kisses Derek’s cheek. “I want to protect them from everything, too.” Stiles rubs Derek’s arm and says, “I wish he was more like you and less like me, you know, bigger.”

“He’s perfect like he is,” Derek says. He lifts Stiles’ hand to his lips and kisses the back of it. “So are you.”

*

Stiles is bent over a microscope, studying a plant sample when his phone rings. He ignores it as he takes notes on the disease plaguing the species, but his phone vibrates again, so he sighs and picks it up without looking at the ID.

“Hello?”

“Where are you?” Derek asks. 

“Um, work?” Stiles leans up and arches his back to offset the ache from bending over the microscope for so long.

“You forgot, didn’t you?”

“Shit,” Stiles exclaims, jumping up from the stool and rushing across his lab. “Patrick’s party.”

“Yep. It just started, and he’s already asked where you were like five times.”

“Shit, shit,” Stiles says as he locks up his office and runs out of the building. “I’m getting in the car now.”

“Is that DD?” Stiles hears Patrick ask in the background. “Can I talk to him?” The phone makes a few sounds as Derek hands it over to Patrick. “DD, where are you?”

“On my way, buddy,” Stiles replies. “I got caught in traffic leaving work.”

“Are you gonna make it?” Patrick asks, full pout in his voice. Stiles feels like a huge asshole.

“I will be there, I promise,” Stiles says.

“Yayes! I have you and Daddy a present, but I can’t give it to him until you get here.”

“I’ll be there soon, okay? Save me a cookie.”

“I’ll save you two!” 

Patrick hands the phone back to Derek, and Derek says, “Are you going to make it?”

“I’m going to break every traffic law between here and the school, but yeah.”

“Don’t think your dad will be too happy about that.”

“He doesn’t have to find out.”

Stiles makes it to the school with twenty minutes left of the school day. He runs through the halls, and Patrick is waiting by the door when he enters. He throws his arms around Stiles’ waist. “I smelled you in the hall,” Patrick whispers against Stiles.

“I made it, buddy.” Stiles squeezes him tight. “I’m sorry I was a little late.”

“It’s okay,” Patrick says happily. “You’re here.” Stiles feels like he’s going to cry, and Derek reaches out and squeezes Stiles’ arm. Patrick runs over to his table, where he’s sitting with Tommy, Tommy’s mom, and a little girl and her parents. He grabs something wrapped in tissue paper, and when Stiles and Derek take the tiny chairs beside him, he hands them the wrapped object.

“What’s this?” Derek asks.

“A present,” Patrick says with a huge grin on his face.

“Don’t you want us to put it under the tree and wait until Santa comes to open it?” Stiles asks.

Patrick shakes his head. “Nope. It’s for now.”

“It’s for now,” Derek says. “Okay.” 

He starts to tear the paper, but Patrick exclaims, “No! Together!!” Stiles laughs but starts pulling off the tissue paper with Derek.

Inside is a red Christmas ornament with the words _Dad and DD_ written on it in gold glitter paint. Stiles can’t help it; he tears up. 

“Do you like it?” Patrick asks, rocking back in forth in his chair. The look on his face is somewhere between proud and nervous.

“It’s beautiful,” Derek says, voice a bit uneven. Stiles glances over at him, and his eyes are a little damp, too. Stiles laughs.

“Where did you get it?” Stiles asks.

“The after school Santa Store,” Patrick explains.

“How did you get the money?”

“Pop-pop!” Patrick says. “When he picked me up last week, he took me to the Santa Store. They didn’t have a DD ornament cause me and Evie are the only kids with a DD, and so Pop-pop helped me ask the lady if she could make my ornament special since I had a DD instead of a Mom, and she made it special for me!” Patrick is positively beaming at them both, and they pull him into a joint hug, both rubbing their faces against his.

“Can we put it on the tree when we get home?” Patrick asks.

“It’s going in the very front,” Stiles says.

When Patrick goes to get Stiles a plate of food, Stiles lays his head on Derek’s shoulder as they look at the ornament. “You’re such a sap,” Stiles says. “I saw you tearing up.”

“Takes one to know one,” Derek says.

“We’re those parents, aren’t we?” Stiles asks.

“Oh yeah.”

*

“I didn’t like Santa,” Evie pouts. They’re sitting at the dining room table, a piece of paper and pencil in front of each kid. “He smelled funny.”

“Santa was cool,” Patrick says. “You’re just a big baby.”

“I’m not a baby!” Evie yells. “I’m a big girl!”

“Enough,” Derek sighs. It had been a _long_ day. They had decided to take the kids to the mall to get their photo with Santa, which seemed like such a lovely idea. But the line was ridiculously long, and as soon as they got up to Santa, Evie started screaming. They tried to put her on Santa’s lap, but she just screamed and screamed. Derek had been embarrassed as other parents (and even Santa) glared at him, and they both had been terrified that she would wolf out since she did that when she was upset, so he had to take Evie away while Stiles stayed behind with Patrick as he sat on Santa’s lap and told him what he wanted.

Now, they were trying to get the kids to write out their Christmas lists for Santa.

Stiles was beside Evie, and Derek beside Patrick. Patrick is furiously scribbling in his small script, and Evie is telling Stiles what to put on her list while drawing on the letter in crayon.

“Dad, how will Santa get these?” Patrick asks.

“We’ll mail them to the North Pole.”

“Do you know where Santa lives?” Evie asks excitedly. “Can we go visit him?”

“It’s pretty far away,” Stiles says. “And it’s really cold there.”

“How does Santa take care of all his reindeer?” Patrick asks. “Do you think he hires elves to do that?”

“Probably,” Stiles replies.

“I want a reindeer!” Evie says. “I will name her Purple.”

“Why Purple?” Derek asks.

“Because I love purple and I love reindeer!” 

“Of course.”

“How does Santa get to all the families on Christmas?” Patrick asks. “Ms. Harlow said there are like 6 _billion_ people who live on the Earth!”

“Not everyone celebrates Christmas,” Stiles explains.

Patrick stops writing and looks up at him. “Do they not get presents?”

“They do,” he says, “but they have their own celebrations.”

Patrick’s little brow furrows in the same way Derek’s does, and then he goes back to writing.

“Can I ask Santa for a reindeer?” Evie asks. 

“You could, sugarplum, but I don’t think he’d bring you one,” Derek says. 

“I don’t think I like Santa,” Evie says, throwing her crayon down. “He’s mean. He smelled funny and won’t bring me a reindeer.” She beats her hands on the table and looks like she’s about to cry. Derek just can’t handle listening to her cry anymore.

“How about you ask Santa for a new doll?” Derek suggests. “Or maybe for a dollhouse? You can ask for a Lala Loopsy doll, or for a new Barbie playset.”

“Would he bring me one of those?” Evie asks.

“If you ask him,” Stiles says. He runs a hand over Evie’s hair and picks up her crayon. “I’m adding both of those to your list.”

When the kids finish, they put them in envelopes and address them to the North Pole.

*

“I have a surprise for you,” Stiles says later that night after they put the kids to bed.

“Oh?” Derek asks, stretching out on the bed and lacing his fingers over his stomach. Stiles goes over to a Kohl’s bag hidden in the corner, and Derek pushes himself up on his elbow. “What’s that?”

Stiles reaches into the bag and pulls out something green and tosses it at Derek’s face. Something hits the bed as Derek holds up the item to see what it is.

“No,” Derek says.

“Derek, come on!” Stiles says. “I have a matching pair.” Derek glares at the hideous elf boxers and reindeer antlers Stiles threw at him before turning to Stiles, who is holding up Santa boxers while wearing a Santa hat. “I want you to get on Santa’s naughty list.”

Derek rolls his eyes, but he gets off the bed. “This is lame, just so you know.”

“You’re not gonna think it’s lame when I’m eating your ass,” Stiles says as he walks towards the bathroom. “I’m gonna change and then Santa’s going to shimmy down your chimney.”

“I’m not going to fuck you if you keep making bad Christmas puns,” Derek says as Stiles disappears from view. “Nothing’s going to get hard if you don’t stop.”

“I always make you hard,” Stiles replies. And Derek, well, Derek can’t argue with that. Just one look at Stiles, or one whiff of his scent is enough to get Derek going even after all these years.

Derek changes into the ridiculous elf boxers and puts on the reindeer antlers. It’s not the weirdest thing they’ve done, he tells himself as he sits on the edge of the bed waiting for Stiles. A few moments later, Stiles comes dancing out of the bathroom, wearing the Santa boxers and a Santa hat.

“Santa baby,” he starts singing, “been an awfully _bad boy_ , so hurry down my chimney tonight.” Stiles finishes off with a shake of his hips.

“No,” Derek shakes his head over and over. “Just, no.”

“Someone’s being naughty,” Stiles says as he steps between Derek’s legs and slides his arms around his neck. “Does Santa Stiles need to put you on the naughty list? Maybe spank you a little?”

Derek reaches around Stiles, grabs his ass, and squeezes. “I’d love to be on your naughty list.”

“Then turn over and Santa will give his elf what he wants.” Derek rolls his eyes again as he pulls Stiles down into a kiss, opening his mouth easily when Stiles’ tongue swipes across his lips. Derek doesn’t immediately turn over; instead, he kisses Stiles for awhile as his hands roamed across Stiles’ bare skin.

Finally, he pulls away and gets on his hands and knees. He’s about to pull the boxers off, but Stiles stops him. “Leave them on,” he says as he kisses Derek’s lower back. Stiles tugs them down just below Derek’s ass so he can hook his fingers between his cheeks and spread his open. “I want to fuck you while you’re wearing them.” Derek sighs as he settles himself more comfortably on his arms.

Stiles drops kisses against Derek’s cheeks before he finally licks a long stripe from right behind his balls all the way to the top of his cleft. Derek lets out a quiet, pleased sound, and when Stiles presses the flat of his tongue against Derek’s opening, he moans.

Derek loses himself to the sensation of Stiles’ tongue for awhile, not thinking about anything but the wet, hot slide of Stiles’ tongue over his opening. With every swipe, Derek hums softly, and when Stiles circles the opening with the tip of his tongue, Derek’s hips move of their own accord. He’s achingly hard now, his erection tenting his boxers and leaving a wet spot of precome on the front. Stiles wiggles his tongue inside Derek’s relaxed opening, and Derek whines quietly.

After Stiles has been eating him out for about ten minutes, Derek starts to laugh. Stiles pauses, and Derek glances back over his shoulder. Stiles’ mouth is wet and red, his eyes heavy and glazed with lust, and his Santa hat is knocked askew, which makes Derek laugh even harder. Stiles is looking at him like he’s crazy.

“I just can’t believe,” Derek starts, “that you are rimmng me while I’m wearing reindeer antlers and you’re dressed like Santa.”

Stiles props himself up on Derek’s ass and shrugs. “It’s not the weirdest thing we’ve done over the years.”

“I guess you’re right,” Derek chuckles again. “It’s just…you’re dressed like Santa.”

“And you’re getting exactly what’s on your list,” Stiles says with a grin, and then slaps Derek’s ass. “It’s festive, Derek. Don’t question it. The only thing that would make this more festive is if your ass tasted like peppermint.” Stiles gets that look on his face, the one that usually means he’s getting a bad idea. Derek’s brow furrows as he braces himself for whatever Stiles is about to say. “You know, if I stuck a candy cane – “

“No,” Derek shakes his head. “I’m wearing reindeer antlers and elf boxers. You are _not_ sticking a candy cane up my ass.”

“Please!” Stiles begs. “Nothing says Christmas more than eating a candy cane out of your ass. It’ll taste like peppermint.”

“No,” Derek says again. “You usually don’t have a problem with the way my ass tastes.”

“This is true,” Stiles says. “But there’s always room for improvement.”

“No.”

“Fine,” Stiles huffs. “Hey, you can stick a candy cane up my ass!”

“I’m not sticking a candy cane in your ass.”

“You’re no fun,” Stiles says. “I want you to stick a candy cane up my ass.”

“You want to stick _everything_ up your ass,” Derek says.

“As long as you’re the one sticking it there.” Stiles crawls up Derek’s back and kisses him. “Now, stop distracting me.”

“You think that’s distracting?” Derek asks. In a flash, he flips Stiles over and pins him to the bed. “This is distracting.”

“You look kinda hot with those antlers on,” Stiles says. “Too bad you’re not a were-deer.”

“You are so lame,” Derek groans. “Please explain to me why I ever married you.”

“I wonder that myself sometimes.” 

Derek leans down and kisses Stiles deeply, holding his face between his hands and licking into his mouth. They’re rutting against each other, and Stiles starts panting as Derek moves down to bite at his neck. “I think I need to find something for that mouth,” Derek says, “so you can stop making bad Christmas dirty talk.”

“I am definitely okay with that.”

Derek wraps his arms around Stiles’ waist and rolls onto his back, pulling Stiles on top of him. He kisses Stiles once more before Stiles maneuvers himself around so he’s facing the opposite way. Derek grabs Stiles’ boxers and tugs them down to free Stiles’ cock as Stiles does the same. He’s momentarily distracted as Stiles slides his lips over the crown of his cock. Derek bucks his hips up and fucks into Stiles’ mouth for a few moments.

Stiles settles into sucking his cock as Derek angles himself up to lick over Stiles’ exposed hole. It’s an awkward angle, but he does this so infrequently that he’s going to enjoy it. Stiles prefers giving rimjobs rather than receiving, and Derek is more than okay with that. But sometimes, he enjoys giving them too, loves the concentrated taste of Stiles on his tongue, his smell so strong around him. Derek kisses and licks, his tongue dragging around the puckered opening before pressing against the muscled ring to work his way inside. 

“Fuck,” Stiles moans when he pulls off Derek’s cock for a moment to breathe. He leans his head against Derek’s thigh, his warm breath ghosting across the skin, before he wraps his lips back around Derek’s cock. 

Derek’s brain is too focused on pleasing Stiles to fully enjoy the feel of his mouth, so Derek starts paying more attention to that. He pulls Stiles’ balls into his mouth and sucks on them lightly as he tries to work the boxers around so he can pull his cock to his mouth. Derek is leaning up and fully sucking Stiles down as he presses a finger inside Stiles. Stiles moans around his cock, and all Derek’s attention is redirected down to where the head of his cock is hitting the back of Stiles’ throat. 

They stay like that for awhile, sucking each other off with Stiles sprawled over Derek. But soon, Derek is fucking up into Stiles’ mouth and coming down his throat. Stiles keeps sucking and licking come from his cock until Derek’s whimpering with overstimulation, and then Stiles moves slightly so Derek can get a better angle. 

Stiles pushes his hips down so Derek almost chokes on his cock, and Derek loves it, loves Stiles filling his mouth and his senses. Derek twists the two fingers inside Stiles, hooking them and pressing as he opens his throat around the head of Stiles’ cock. Soon, Stiles is clenching around his fingers and coming down his throat. Derek swallows every drop.

Derek carefully pulls his fingers from Stiles and wipes them on the boxers still scrunched around his hips as Stiles flops back onto the bed.

“And you said these boxers were a stupid idea,” Stiles says as he curls against Derek.

“They were,” Derek responds. “They didn’t make the sex any better.”

Stiles frowns as he bops the antlers Derek’s still wearing. Derek sighs and takes them off. “You’re such a Grinch.”

Derek grabs the Santa hat off Stiles’ head and rolls on top of him. “I don’t think you get to be Santa,” Derek murmurs against his mouth. “I think you’re a naughty elf.”

“Oh, so _you_ want to be Santa,” Stiles says as Derek starts sucking a mark onto his collarbone. “Well, Santa, I’ve been _extra_ naughty. I think I need lots of spankings.”

Derek bites down on his collarbone, hard.

*

Derek wakes as soon as he hears the crack of the door opening. He sits up in bed and sees Evie peeking around the door, her eyes shining gold. Derek glances at the clock; it’s just after two.

“What’s wrong, pumpkin?” Derek asks sleepily, feeling around on the floor for his underwear. After round two, he and Stiles had passed out without bothering to put on their clothes. Derek’s fingers touch fabric, and he quickly grabs them and Stiles’ pair next to them.

“I had a bad dream,” Evie says as she pads into the room holding her stuffed penguin. Derek is trying to pull on his underwear while waking up Stiles at the same time. “Can I sleep with you?”

“Stiles, wake up,” Derek says, hitting Stiles in the arm. Stiles stirs as Evie comes around to Derek’s side of the bed and starts to crawl onto it. “Stiles.”

“What?”

“Put on your underwear,” Derek says, shoving the boxer briefs at Stiles’ face. Evie crawls across the bed and up between Stiles and Derek.

“Ssh, Daddy!” Evie says as she crawls under the covers. “DD is asleep.”

Stiles wakes up enough to pull the underwear under the blankets and put them on. He rolls towards Evie and Derek, reaches a hand out to touch Evie, and falls directly back to sleep.

“Tell Daddy what the dream was about,” Derek says as he pulls Evie against him and hugs her close. She sniffles against his bare chest, spreading snot and tears on his skin. She rubs her hand along Derek’s side and presses her feet against Stiles’ stomach, her heartbeat and fear calming the longer she’s between them.

“Santa was mean to me,” Evie yawns. “He attacked me with his reindeer, and Purple tried to eat me!”

“Purple wouldn’t try to eat you,” Derek says, running his hand along her hair and back. “Reindeers love little girls.”

“Even wolfies?” Evie asks, already drifting to sleep.

“Even wolfies.”

*

“Pop-pop’s here!” Patrick yells as he runs away from the window. He starts making loud, unintelligible sounds as he darts up the stairs.

“Patrick, stop it!” Stiles snaps. “And for god’s sake, stop yelling.”

The sheriff walks into the house, amused grin on his face. “Hey kiddo. Kids driving you crazy?”

“Sure you want to take them tonight?” Stiles asks as Patrick chases Evie down the stairs. “I don’t know what’s gotten into them.”

“Pop-pop!” Evie yells as she launches herself at the sheriff. He scoops her up into his arms and peppers her face with kisses. Patrick keeps going until he runs into the sheriff’s legs, bouncing back slightly and knocking the sheriff off balance. Then, Patrick wraps his arms around both of the sheriff’s legs.

“Pop-pop, I missed you!” Patrick says.

The sheriff pats his shoulder. “You saw me yesterday, kiddo.”

“I know, but I missed you!” Patrick presses his face into the sheriff’s legs, and Evie starts patting his cheeks with her small hands.

“Hey, cubs,” Derek says as he walks into the room. “Take it easy on your grandpa, okay? Patrick, you’re about to knock him over.”

“It’s okay, Derek,” the sheriff says with a low chuckle. Stiles can’t get over how happy the sheriff looks whenever he’s with the kids. Even when they’re being colossal brats. 

“Hey!” Stiles yells. “Calm down, or you don’t get to go to Pop-pop’s.”

Evie turns to Stiles, eyes wide and mouth open. “You wouldn’t let us go with Pop-pop?”

“Not if you don’t behave,” Stiles says. “Santa won’t come either if you’re not good.”

“I don’t like Santa,” Evie says for the thousandth time. Stiles rolls his eyes.

The sheriff bounces her in his arms. “You don’t like Santa?”

“Santa is a poopyhead,” Evie says as she plays with the collar of the sheriff’s shirt. “He smelled funny.”

“We took them to see Santa the other day, you remember I told you,” Stiles says, running a hand through his hair, “and she didn’t like Santa. And so, she’s kinda anti-Santa right now.”

“He won’t bring me a reindeer!” Evie yells. “I want Purple!”

“Reindeer can’t live in California,” the sheriff explains. “They have to live at the North Pole.”

“Can’t we keep her in the freezer?” Evie asks. The sheriff kisses her head and tells her no.

“Patrick, where are your shoes?” Derek asks. “And your coat?”

“In my room!” Patrick skips to the stairs and then hops up each one, tripping halfway up. 

“I swear,” Stiles says. “If they are too much, send them to bed early.”

“What’s got you so frazzled?” the sheriff asks as he readjusts Evie in his arms. She’s playing with the buttons on his shirt and sucking the thumb on her left hand.

“Stressful day at work,” Stiles says as he bends down and starts picking up the errant toys around the living room. “The kids are at level ten thousand today, I have a headache, Derek and I still have to go Christmas shopping, and we have the Pack party tonight.” Stiles throws all the toys in the toy box a little more forcefully than needed.

“Stiles, relax. You’ll get everything done. And Melissa and I have the kids tonight, so they’ll be fine. You go have fun at your adult party with the rest of the Pack.”

“Are Scott and Allison’s kids staying with you, too?” Derek asks. 

The sheriff shakes his head. “Chris has them tonight. I think they’re going camping.”

Evie pulls the thumb from her mouth and gets spit everywhere. “Can we go camping Pop-pop? Like we did on the full moon?” Evie asks as Derek wipes her mouth and hand with a napkin from his pocket. 

“Not tonight, sweetheart,” the sheriff says. “Miss Melissa has some cookies for you two, and the four of us are going to curl up on the couch and watch Rudolph and Frosty!”

“Yay!” Evie claps her hands happily.

“Derek, tie her shoe,” Stiles says distractedly as Patrick bounds down the stairs. Derek ties Evie’s shoe while Stiles grabs Patrick’s arm. Stiles squats down and fixes Patrick’s shoes properly, and then helps him into his coat. “You’re gonna be a good boy for Pop-pop and Melissa, right?”

Patrick nods. “Me and Evie are gonna watch Rudolph and Frosty.”

“That’s right.” Stiles pulls him into a hug and kisses him. “Don’t make Pop-pop have to punish you, okay?”

“I won’t, DD. Stop worrying.” Patrick rubs Stiles’ cheek before running over to hug and kiss Derek, and then taking off for the door. Derek has the kid’s bags ready and walks with the sheriff out to the car.

*

“If you’re going to be an ass all night, I’ll just go home,” Derek snaps as they walk through Toys R Us. 

“Oh stop being dramatic,” Stiles says. “We’ve got to finish this shopping and go to Isaac’s party.”

“I’m not going if you’re acting like an asshole.”

Stiles glares at Derek and storms to the doll section, leaving Derek to follow with the cart. Or not. He didn’t care.

“She wants a mermaid doll,” Derek says.

“I know,” Stiles says. “I did help her write her list.”

“Why are you mad at me?” Derek asks. “Don’t take your bad day out on me.”

“I’m not – ugh, whatever Derek.”

Derek growls and pushes away from the shopping cart. “I’m going to the board games. Come join me when you get the stick out of your ass.” Derek stomps away and Stiles doesn’t even turn to give him a second look.

Stiles finds the sections of dolls that Evie wants, and he spends the next ten minutes stewing about Derek and trying to read the backs of the dolls to distinguish the differences. After the third time Stiles turns to Derek to ask him a question, he just gives up, slings the cart around, and goes to find Derek.

Derek’s standing in the board games, a stack of them in his arms. He glances up at Stiles when he stops the cart beside him.

“I’m not taking my day out on you,” Stiles says. “But you could be a little less of an ass whenever I ask you a question.”

“Ever think that sometimes I have a bad day, too?” Derek asks. “Because I had a shit day, too. But since you didn’t even _ask_ when you got home, you wouldn’t know that.” Derek sets the games on the shelf and crosses his arms over his chest. 

Stiles sighs in frustration. “Why’d you have a bad day?”

“Manuscript problems,” Derek answers. “It’s not a big deal. But I’m frustrated too.”

Stiles steps closer and slides his arms around Derek’s waist. Derek holds him tight and presses his face into Stiles’ hair. Stiles doesn’t care that they’re in the middle of Toys R Us; he just needs his husband to hold him, and everyone else can just go down another aisle if they didn’t like it.

“I’m sorry,” Stiles murmurs against Derek’s neck. “I don’t want to fight.”

“Me, either.” Derek kisses the side of Stiles’ head and they break apart. “I want to pick out the kids’ Christmas gifts and then go to Isaac’s party.”

“Same here.” Stiles picks up the stack of board games. “Whatcha got here? There’s like seven games here.”

Derek’s ears burn pink and he takes the stack awkwardly. “I like board games. I can’t decide.”

Stiles takes them and drops them into the cart. “Fine. We’ll get them all the games. Now, come help me pick out a mermaid doll for Evie.”

*

Lydia had surprised them all by showing up to Isaac’s ugly Christmas sweater party with her fiancée, and naturally, she and Stiles end up doing tequila shots in the kitchen with Allison, Sarah, Danny, and Scott. Jackson had also come to the party, in Beacon Hills because he was visiting his parents with his wife. He and Derek have spent half the night out on the back porch, drinking aconite whiskey and catching up.

Stiles is rather proud of his ugly Christmas sweater. It was a red button-up, oversized cardigan with a busy scene on the front. On one side was a full portrait of Santa with his sack of toys, and on the other side of the buttons was a large Christmas tree and a fireplace. Personally, Stiles thinks Derek takes the cake. He’s wearing a black sweater with two ice skating snowmen, one of which had fallen down.

After a few games of cards, Stiles ends up in the kitchen where everyone is gathered around the island. Stiles squeezes in between Derek and Danny as Scott and Isaac come running into the kitchen. Derek throws an arm around Stiles’ shoulders and gives him a congealed maroon jello shot.

“What kind?” Danny asks as he picks one up.

“Cranberry, of course,” Scott explains, smiling proudly. He looks absolutely ridiculous in a red sweater vest (with no shirt and Christmas pajama pants that didn’t match) with large bells and holly all over it. Stiles thinks that was the ugliest outfit ever, though Isaac was a close second with a light blue one with a cat wearing a Santa hat, a red bird on a birdhouse, and a string of lights that actually blinked. He figures Sarah and Isaac must have coordinated blinking Christmas sweaters. Stiles is actually disappointed that his friends out-uglied his own sweater.

Isaac adds, “I chose the alcohol theme just for Christmas. Cranberry jello shots, cranberry vodka, and peppermint schnapps. I even put them in Christmas molds. Candy canes, trees, snowmen.”

“And for those who want something other than straight god-awful flavored alcohol,” Sarah says, “We have a mini holiday-themed bar in the dining room serving Black Santas, Blue Snowflakes, and Candy Cane-tinis.” She points through the kitchen door into the dining room where the table was covered in drinks. “Half the trays are regular alcohol, half are aconite alcohol. So just make sure you take from the right one.”

“Lydia, if you will.” Scott hands Lydia a tray. She picks a jello mold from it and then passes the tray to Danny while Scott starts the wolf-friendly one.

“There is really no ritual for jello shots,” Isaac says, holding a wiggling candy cane in his hand. Stiles shrugs and pops a bell into his mouth. The others follow, and then they are grabbing seconds and thirds from the trays set on the island between them.

“I was saving these for later, but I guess since we’ve almost eaten all the other jello shots...” Isaac opens up a cabinet and pulls out a tupperware container full of plastic syringes filled with jello shots.

“Fucking A, Isaac,” Jackson exclaims, “planning on giving us alcohol poisoning for Christmas?”

“I’ve decided I wanted to get extremely drunk in honor of Yule.” Isaac grabs two syringes and squirts one into his mouth.

“How spirited. Shit-faced for _Yule_.” Scott chunks a jello snowman at Stiles, which lands against his neck and sticks. They all explode into laughter and then jello shots start flying across the kitchen. Allison manages to pelt Danny right in the eye, Lydia has one smeared in her hair when Derek misses Sarah and hits her instead, and Scott and Stiles are just picking them up and squishing them on each other.

*

A few hours later, Stiles is drunk. Not too drunk he decides, just nicely drunk. There is a pleasant hum in the back of his brain and his body feels warm. He is currently in a chair next to a card table where Jackson, his wife, Lydia, Lydia’s fiancée, Sarah, and Derek are playing poker. 

“I say we take the stakes just a bit higher,” Jackson says as Sarah shuffles the deck. “Let’s make it a drinking game.”

“Please, Jackson. You already reek of vodka,” Lydia says.

“That’s just because Danny smeared jello shots all over him,” Derek explains.

“I think it’s a grand idea,” Lydia’s fiancée Nathan says, smiling mischievously. “And I will tell you right now, Lydia, I shall beat you.”

“It’s on!” 

True to his word, Nathan starts off strong. Jackson, Lydia, and Sarah were already three shots down before Nathan had to drink anything. As they play, Jackson throws insults across the table and at anyone who passes by, Derek and Jackson’s wife Greta both openly and secretly cheat, and Nathan plays some of the best poker Stiles had ever seen. 

By the time Jackson and Nathan start singing dirty Christmas carols, Stiles is drunk. Like, _way_ drunk. He gets up from the table and stumbles into Isaac’s living room and slings his arm over Allison’s shoulders. She’s keeping him up, or maybe he’s keeping her up, or maybe it’s both. He doesn’t know. 

But now Stiles and Allison are swaying together while Lydia and Isaac dance around the living room and Scott sings his rendition of _Merry Christmas Baby_. 

But soon, the room is too hot, and Stiles has to go outside to get some air. He’s leaning against the railing, watching his breath fog every time he exhales when the back door opens. A few seconds later, two arms slide around his waist and lips brush against his neck.

“What are you doing out here?” Derek asks.

“Waiting for you,” Stiles smiles as he turns his head and catches Derek’s mouth in a kiss. Stiles squirms around so he’s facing Derek, and he pushes him until Derek’s back is against the side of the house. “I’m so drunk,” Stiles murmurs against Derek’s mouth.

“I’m a bit drunk myself,” Derek replies. His hands have found their way under Stiles’ sweater, and he’s rubbing and squeezing Stiles’ skin. “You feel so good.”

“Mmm,” Stiles hums against his mouth. “I haven’t been drunk in so long.” Derek just keeps kissing him, his mouth tasting bitter and overly sweet, like whiskey and vodka. “Remember when we used to have sloppy drunk sex when we first got together?”

“Yep,” Derek says. 

“Think we should do it again?” Stiles thumbs the button of Derek’s jeans open and shoves his hand inside. Derek’s cock is hot and half-hard in his hand, and Derek bucks his hips when Stiles starts stroking him lightly.

“Stiles,” Derek moans, his head falling back against the side of the house. Stiles leans forward and bites into his exposed neck, and Derek’s cock twitches in his hand.

“Hey Stiles, I’ve - _oh god_!” Scott exclaims when he steps onto the porch. Derek and Stiles are in the shadows and around the edge of the house on the porch, so Scott can’t see them, but Stiles has no doubt the air is thick with sex. They start laughing. “I can smell that, for fuck’s sake! Can’t you keep your hands off each other for like one night?”

“Nope,” Stiles yells. 

“Does it really surprise you? They’re always fucking,” Isaac says when he joins Scott on the porch. “You get it, guys!”

Derek’s got his face pressed into Stiles’ neck, laughing. 

“Isaac, don’t encourage them,” Scott says.

“Not my fault Allison won’t play with your dick when she’s drunk,” Stiles calls out, and Derek just breaks out into a fresh wave of laughter.

“He hasn’t asked,” Allison yells out the back door. “Come on, Scott, let’s leave them alone. And if you really want a blowjob, all you have to do is ask.”

“You tell ‘em, Allison,” Stiles yells right as the back door shuts. They both start laughing again and go back to kissing, Derek having trouble getting Stiles’ pants undone.

*

“It’s Christmas Eve!” Patrick yells as Stiles tries to get the kids to settle on the couch. They’ve opened their traditional one present on Christmas Eve night, and now Patrick and Evie are snuggling down on the couch with Stiles and Derek while the sheriff puts his feet up in the recliner. Ever since the kids were born, the sheriff has spent every Christmas Eve at Derek and Stiles’ place so he could be with the kids when Santa came.

“You’ve got to go to sleep soon,” Stiles says as he pulls Evie into his lap. “The sooner you go to sleep, the sooner Santa comes.”

“I don’t like Santa,” Evie states.

“But he’s going to bring you presents while you’re asleep,” Stiles says, tickling her belly.

“I want to go to sleep right now!” Evie says.

“But Dad hasn’t read us our story yet,” Patrick says as he sits beside Derek. “You’re gonna read it, right?”

“Of course,” Derek says, getting the two books from the table beside him. Derek drapes an arm around Patrick as he snuggles close to look at the pictures. Their custom was to read both _Twas the Night Before Christmas_ and _How The Grinch Stole Christmas_ on Christmas Eve night. This year is Derek’s turn to read the stories.

As Derek reads, Evie’s eyes start to droop, and the sheriff nods off in the chair. But Patrick listens to every word Derek says with rapt attention. He even mouths a few of the words along with him as he reads from the book.

Derek closes the book when he’s finished, and Evie’s got her face hidden in Stiles’ shirt. “Well, Patrick, looks like your sister is almost asleep. You ready for bed?”

“Yes!” Patrick exclaims. “I want Santa to come.”

“Let’s go get ready for bed then.” 

“Hey, Dad,” Stiles says as he carefully picks Evie up. She shifts around with her eyes closed as she lays her head on Stiles’ shoulder and fists his shirt. “Kids are going to bed. Looks like it might be time for you to go to bed, too.”

“Leave your old man alone,” the sheriff says as he gets out of the recliner. “I’ve been up since 5 a.m.” He walks over and kisses Evie’s forehead and then gives Patrick a hug and a kiss. They all head upstairs, the sheriff disappearing into the guest bedroom while Stiles and Derek take the kids into their room.

A pallet is already set up on the floor at the foot of the bed. Every year since Patrick was old enough to understand Christmas, he has slept on the floor in Derek and Stiles’ room. This year is Evie’s first Christmas joining him in the tradition. Stiles bends down to lay Evie on her side of the pallet while Patrick goes over to the radio. 

“Can I turn on Christmas music?” he asks.

“Sure thing,” Derek says as he gets on his knees beside Stiles to help tuck Evie in.

“Has Santa come yet?” Evie asks through a yawn.

“Not yet, pumpkin,” Stiles says as he places her new doll beside her. 

“Twas the night before Christmas and all through the house, not a creature was stirring, not even a wolfie,” Derek recites as he pulls the blankets around her snugly. She smiles and pulls her arm out so she can rub his stubble. “The cubs were nestled all snug in their beds, while visions of sugarplums danced through their heads.”

“Daddy,” Evie starts, “What’s a sugarplum?”

“It’s a kind of candy,” Derek explains. “I looked it up, just for you. Know why?”

“Cause you’re the best daddy.”

“Because you’re my little sugarplum.” Derek kisses her head, and Stiles leans down to kiss her as she closes her eyes. 

Patrick comes over and gets under the covers. “I’m so excited!” he says. He’s nearly vibrating. “Evie’s sleeping on the floor with me, so we can wake up together in the morning when Santa comes!”

“You’re gonna go to sleep, right? Santa won’t come if you’re up all night.”

“I’m gonna go to sleep. I can’t wait!” He’s holding his new stuffed Batman doll in his arms, smiling up at both of them. “I hope I’ve been good enough that Santa brings me lots of toys. And I hope that Santa brings Evie lots of toys, because she’s been really good and wants lots of dolls. Do you think Santa will bring Evie a doll?”

“I’m sure he will,” Derek says. He runs a hand over Patrick’s head and pushes his shaggy hair off his face.

“Good.” Patrick turns onto his side, clutching his stuffed toy. Derek and Stiles kiss him and then leave the room, closing the door behind them.

*

A few hours later, the kids are asleep, and Stiles and Derek are putting out Santa’s gifts for the kids.

“Where should I set up the work bench?” Derek asks, carrying a large, plastic toy tool bench across the living room. 

“Put it in the middle,” Stiles says. “Patrick’s stuff is on the right side and Evie’s is on the left. We’ll put all their combined gifts in the middle.”

“What did you used to do on Christmas morning?” Derek asks as he starts setting the plastic tools on the playset. 

“I used to wake up really early, and then my mom and dad would play with me until around midday, and then Scott would come over or I’d go over to his house, and we’d play all afternoon.” Stiles arranges Evie’s dolls on the floor. “After my mom died, I didn’t wake up so early. Dad still made Christmas awesome, but it took a few years for it not to be really sad. That first year, Scott and his mom came over and brought us breakfast.”

“Laura was always the one who would wake everyone up in the middle of the night. ‘Is it Christmas yet? Can we get up now?’I would be on the floor in my parent’s room with my sisters and brother, in a huge puppy pile. Cora and Michael were so much younger, so Laura and I didn’t spend as much time with them, but when it was Christmas, we were right there on the floor with them. Even that last Christmas. I was fifteen, Laura was seventeen, and we slept on a pallet on the floor with Cora and Michael because they were only ten and twelve.”

Stiles smiles. “I bet that was fun.”

Derek stares at the stack of presents on the floor and smiles. “They’re some of the best memories I have.”

Stiles crawls across the floor, grabs Derek’s hand, and tugs him down onto the floor. He kisses him gently at first, small kisses of understanding, but they soon turn into fervent, passionate kisses. The next thing Derek knows, Stiles is on top of him, their shirts off and cocks pulled out of their flies as Derek jerks them slowly.

“We’re supposed to be setting up the kids’ toys,” Derek says breathlessly. “They’re going to try and get us up in a few hours.”

“We’ll make them go back to sleep,” Stiles moans into his mouth. “Are they asleep?”

Derek pauses and focuses his senses, detects Patrick and Evie’s heartbeats and their slow even breathing. “Yep. Your dad, too.”

“Good.” Stiles kisses Derek fully on the mouth before rolling off him. “Get on your side and take off your pants.”

Derek quickly obeys as Stiles searches in the drawer in end table. He finally pulls out a bottle of lube and tosses it at Derek. While Stiles finishes taking off his clothes, Derek squeezes lube onto his hands and reaches around to start preparing himself. A few moments later, Stiles shimmies up behind him and slaps his hand away.

“Don’t start without me,” Stiles murmurs against Derek’s neck. He starts kissing along Derek’s hairline, and replaces Derek’s fingers with his own. Derek sighs contently as Stiles’ fingers slide and twist inside him. It’d been awhile since they’d had sex like this, so Stiles takes his time stretching Derek, and Derek doesn’t mind at all.

As Stiles works his fingers inside him, Derek lazily strokes his cock. Stiles keeps dropping kisses along Derek’s shoulders and neck, and Derek relaxes completely. He’s happy and content, lying on the living room floor facing the Christmas tree having sex with Stiles. He knows they should be putting the final touches on the kids’ presents, but right now, there’s nothing else Derek would rather be doing.

“Ready?” Stiles whispers against Derek’s ear. Derek nods and lifts his leg to hook it back over Stiles’ thighs. Stiles grips Derek’s hip as he guides his cock to Derek’s opening, and then he pushes inside. The burn of Stiles’ cock stretching him makes it hard to breathe for a moment, and when he inhales, he relaxes a bit so Stiles can finish pushing all the way inside.

“Okay?” Stiles asks when his hips are flush against Derek. Derek nods and reaches behind him to hold Stiles there. Stiles doesn’t move, just kisses along Derek’s shoulders. But then he pulls out a little bit and slowly thrusts back inside, and Derek cries out softly. 

Stiles sets up a slow rhythm; neither of them are in a hurry or overly frantic. It’s slow and sweet, with Stiles’ hand sliding along Derek’s side, over his hip, and the outside of his thigh and Derek’s hand reaching behind him to thread into Stiles’ hair. Slowly, almost teasingly, Stiles trails his fingers around to Derek’s torso, over his lower belly, and then circles his hand around his cock.

Derek arches back into Stiles, and Stiles kisses along his ear and across his cheek. Derek turns his face and catches Stiles’ lips in a kiss. Stiles’ mouth is warm and familiar, and Derek feels a bit overwhelmed by everything as Stiles strokes his cock at a different tempo than he fucks into him with. 

“I love you so much, Derek,” Stiles whispers against his mouth. “So so much.”

Derek wants to speak, but he’s too far gone, so he just grips Stiles’ head tighter as he kisses him hard. Stiles moves his hand to grip Derek’s hip so he can thrust into him faster and harder, and Derek starts to moan into his mouth. He moves the hand that was threaded in Stiles’ hair down to his cock, squeezing and stroking as Stiles fucks into him faster, their skin slapping over the quiet Christmas music playing in the background.

Derek moans into Stiles’ mouth when he comes, spilling over his hand and onto the carpet. Derek rides the aftershocks as Stiles continues fucking him, his cock a pleasant weight inside him. Stiles buries his face into the back of Derek’s neck, kissing and biting the flesh when he comes.

*

“Is it time to get up yet?” Patrick asks.

“No,” Derek grunts.

“What about now?” he asks.

“It’s only been twenty minutes,” Stiles says, rolling over and throwing his arm across Derek’s body.

“Now?” Evie asks.

“No!” Derek growls. “We’re not getting up until six.”

The kids settle down and as soon as Derek’s almost asleep, Patrick asks, “How about five-thirty.”

“Fine, we’ll get up at five-thirty. Just go to sleep.”

*

The kids haven’t even glanced at the wrapped presents under the tree, which is honestly okay with both Stiles and Derek. They’re slumped against one another, steaming cups of coffee in front of them as they try to wake up.

“What time did you two get to bed?” the sheriff asks, the chipper bastard. He’s fully awake and looking at them with a knowing expression.

“Too late, Dad,” Stiles groans. “And not a word.”

“You’re married, son, I’d be worried if you weren’t.”

“God,” Stiles groans into Derek’s shoulder. “It’s too early to be talking about this with my father.” Derek just chuckles and kisses the top of Stiles’ head. After they’d finished having sex, they’d lain on the floor holding one another, kissing, and talking for too long. Then Derek had to clean the carpet and then help Stiles finish putting out the kids’ presents.

An hour later when the kids have fully explored all their new toys and torn all the toys from the boxes, Stiles and Derek are finally ready to open presents.

“DD!” Patrick says, grabbing the large box from under the tree. It’s messily wrapped in Peanuts Christmas wrapping paper. “Open your present.”

“I wrapped it!” Evie says, clinging to her new mermaid doll. 

“You did a great job!” Stiles says as he starts to tear the paper. When he opens the box, Derek can tell he’s trying not to cry. Inside are four clay pots, and each kid painted two a piece. Carefully, Stiles pulls them out and looks at the designs on the sides. Evie’s are covered with messy flowers and butterflies and a few colorful blobs, while Patrick’s has a rudimentary wolf, a stick figure family, and some trees. 

“Do you like them?” Patrick asks.

“They’re perfect,” Stiles says, finally looking up. “You painted me pots for my plants. I love them.”

Patrick and Evie both come over to him and nuzzle his face. “Did you see what I did?” Patrick asks, taking his pot from the box and holding it up for Stiles to see. “Do you know what that is?”

Patrick is pointing to a yellow oval with a black blob in the middle. “It’s the Batman symbol!” Stiles says. Patrick just beams.

“When did you do this?” Stiles asks Derek over the kids’ heads.

“When you were at work. They’ve been working on them for a few weeks.”

“Dad, are you gonna give DD your gift now?” Patrick asks as he crawls under the tree and pulls out a small, perfectly wrapped gift.

“Sure,” Derek says. “Hand it to DD.” Patrick hands Stiles the present, and Stiles tears the wrapping paper off quickly. He smiles when he sees what’s inside.

“Derek, this is beautiful.” It’s a small box carved out of petrified wood; on the lid is an intricate design of leaves. “I love it.”

“Open it,” Derek says. Stiles’ face scrunches in confusion as he lifts the lid. Inside, he finds a key. Stiles takes it out and glances at Derek. “It’s the key to your new greenhouse.”

“What?” Stiles exclaims, his face splitting into a wide grin. “No way!”

“I’ve got to build it, but I’ve already gotten all the materials, and Scott, Isaac, and your dad agreed to help me. Shouldn’t take very long.”

“Ohmigod, you’re the best!” Stiles crawls over to Derek and kisses him deeply. “It’s the perfect gift.”

“And now you have four pots to get you started.”

“You three have spoiled me this year!” Stiles says, still grinning. “Derek, I would have been happy with this box.”

“I know, but you deserve more than a box.” Derek kisses Stiles again.

“Daddy next!” Evie exclaims as she grabs Derek’s gift. “This is from me and Patrick. Patrick wrapped this one.”

“What’s inside, sugarplum?” Derek asks as he pulls Evie into his lap. She helps him rip the paper off. Inside are two books, one by Evie and one by Patrick. 

“We made you books!” Evie says happily.

“Because you love books so much,” Patrick explains.

Derek flips Patrick’s open. Inside are pictures of Patrick and ones of him with Derek and Stiles, but there are also pictures drawn and colored by him, a few stories written by him, and pictures from magazines cut out and pasted inside. Evie’s is very similar, but most of the words are written in Stiles or the sheriff’s handwriting. 

“These are my favorite books,” Derek says, flipping through them. It’s moments like these that he can’t believe this is his life, that after everything that’s happened to him, he ended up with such a perfect family. Sometimes, it just feels unreal. 

Suddenly, two small bodies collide with his and four arms grip him tight. “Daddy! You smell sad!” Evie says.

“We didn’t mean to make you sad,” Patrick says, rubbing his face against Derek’s shoulder.

“I’m not sad,” Derek says with a laugh. “I’m very happy.”

“Then why do you seem sad?” Patrick asks when he pulls away.

“Because sometimes, I just can’t believe I’m lucky enough to have such wonderful children.” Derek kisses them both and hugs them tightly.

When he lets them go, Stiles is watching them with a smile on his face. “Mine doesn’t go with theirs like your gift did,” he says as he hands Derek the gift. “Apparently, I didn’t think ahead like you.”

Derek chuckles as he pulls the paper from the small box. He lifts the lid and gasps when he sees what’s inside. “This…how…this can’t be what I think it is.” Derek lifts the silver pocket watch from the box and rubs his thumb over the intricate wolf. Then, he turns it over and sees the name _William Hale_ engraved on the back. Derek can’t speak; he just lifts his head and looks at Stiles helplessly.

“Cora helped me,” Stiles explains. “She found out your great aunt had this in her things when she visited her earlier this year. She convinced her to give it to you, and I had it fixed and cleaned up.”

“Stiles,” Derek says, holding the watch in his hands reverently.

“Daddy, that’s a wolfie!” Evie says as she points to the top.

“Sure is, pumpkin.”

“What is it, Dad?” Patrick peers at it curiously.

“My grandfather’s pocket watch,” Derek says. “I never thought…” Derek shakes his head and pulls Stiles into his arms. He kisses him deeply, trying to say everything he cann’t articulate with the kiss. “I don’t know how you did it, but thank you. You don’t know how much this means to me.”

“Cora tried to explain it, but I can’t wait for you to tell me about him,” Stiles says, running his hand over the watch in Derek’s hand. “I’m just glad you have a tiny piece of you family.”

Derek hugs Stiles close, burying his face in the crook of his neck and just holding him.

“Pop-pop, is Daddy okay?” Evie asks. 

“He’s fine, sweetheart,” the sheriff says. “Why don’t the two of you show me your tool bench?” 

The sheriff distracts the kids while Derek holds Stiles. Stiles just runs his hands through Derek’s hair and drops kisses on his hair until Derek collects himself.

“Thank you,” Derek says. He finally pulls away and cups Stiles’ face. “How did I ever get so lucky to find you?”

“Luck had little to do with it,” Stiles responds. “Just lots of bad things that led to something great.”

“I love you so much,” Derek says, kissing him again. “I don’t think you’ll ever know how much.”

“I think I have a pretty good idea,” Stiles says, rubbing the back of his fingers against Derek’s cheek.

“Daddy, DD!” Evie says. “You two are like a fairytale! Like two princes!”

“You’re such a girl,” Patrick says, wrinkling his nose.

Derek kisses Stiles again, and then Stiles crawls off his lap and joins the sheriff and the kids. Derek just stares at them, really wondering how he ever did get so lucky.

-fin

**Author's Note:**

> [tumblr, if you'd like to say hi](http://thepsychicclam.tumblr.com/)


End file.
